To Feel Warm
by VampedVixen
Summary: Spike's longing for something to keep him warm at night.


Title: To Feel Warm

Author: Vixen  
Rating: R/NC17  
Disclaimer: Joss is God. 'Nuff said.  
Summary: Spike's longing for something to keep him warm at night.  
Written For: CYA Ficathon  
Assignment:   
_Characters/Pairings you want the story to focus in: Spike/Dru,   
Characters/Pairings you want in the story too: Dru/Angelus, doesn't have to be much, just one good quality moment between the too of them focusing on the dynamics of their relationship and maybe even the way this affects the Spike/Dru dynamic.  
Things you want: Set back in the day, some time after 1880 but before Angelus got a soul, so 1880 - 1898.  
Things you don't want: No Fluff please, angst is good, dark/horror etc. is great:)  
Extras: NC-17 and I love darkfic and angst and a bit of smut:)_

Some nights the heat of his own bloodlust can keep him going. Each victim the blond, blue-eyed devil sends to their gods screams in their own beautiful tongue. The power behind his hand is intoxicating as Spike snuffs out their bright light, taking what he can before darkening the world a bit more in a fat of chaos.

With Drusilla as his guide, he tries out scenario after bloody scenario, decade after decade. it's the desire to personify death that makes him continue his death parade. That, and the need to stave off the cold memories. Cecily, his mother, the way Angelus touches his girl.. all these things can be forgotten if he just shuts his brain off and feeds the chaos.

The girl dangling from chains, blood dripping from the wound he's inflicted on her breasts from one of the toys he and Drusilla keeps lying around their bedroom? Her shrill shrieks can dull the pain. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, Spike feels like he had finally found a home. Someplace he belongs, doing the one thing that comes naturally to him. Lord knows, writing poetry was never this easy.

When Drusilla joins in, whispering in the dying girl's ear, making the child whimper like a beaten dog while brining up imagery of burning witches and broken dollies, it makes Spike's blood boil with a nearly insatiable craving.

The sun might have stolen itself out of his life, or simply disappeared like the naughty schoolgirl that got lost on her way to classes whom Drusilla is now whispering about, but with his moonlight princess Spike can do without it.

As the blood runs out, the girl used up and left hanging in the center of the room like some unholy chandelier, Spike pushes himself into his darkling, taking what he needs from her. Drusilla screams as an orgasm rips through her, biting his neck with sharp incisors in return.

Just when he starts to feel whole again, just when there's a little tingle of heat starting to heal what's left of his unbeating heart, Drusilla breaks the moment. Sitting up, she claps her hands and a smile spreads across their lips. Its the only smile of Drusilla's that Spike hates, the bright broad grin that's reserved for the vampire who made her.

"Daddy's home," she sing-songs, licking Spike's neck. Just when he's had enough of the way her eyes light up when she mentions her sire, just when he's about to push her away and start yelling at her to leave, she does the job for him. Rising to her feet, Drusilla swishes towards the door, not even bothering to throw her dress back on as she rushes to Angelus naked, eager for the treats he has brought her.

Its then that Spike feel the air grow chilled again. Such an unbearable frigid stillness that would stop his heart dead, if it hadn't already died long ago.

Later, when he's pacing the well-furnished mansion of their latest murdered family, when he's trying hard not to listen to the sounds emanating from Angelus' bedchamber, he spots Darla. She's sitting by the piano, photographs of the mansion's previous inhabitants letter the top of the keyboard as she idly plays out a tune with one finger.

Their eyes meet for a moment and before she can cover it up, there is an intense sadness shown to him. She's heard what goes on behind closed doors, in her own bedroom no less. Normally she would raise hell itself to teach Angelus a lesson about taking others to bed without her consent, but tonight something has stolen the energy from her argument.

Spike knows then that the same icy hands that grips his heart has destroyed her own. However, before he can put works to the loneliness they can both feel, her eyes shift. No longer is there the lost, fragile girl begging the universe to show her some form of love, but a woman fierce and forcibly independent who'd rather attack the ones who cause her pain than allow herself to feel anything.

An hour later, when Drusilla crawls back into Spike's bed as the dawn approaches behind their carefully drawn shades he caresses the places the other two vampires left their marks. There are tears of pain in her vacant eyes as she whimpers, "Mommy and Daddy got into a dreadful argument. Mommy said I was a terrible mistake and deserved to be hurt." She winces as he lightly brushes a finger across a newly formed burn mark, "Do you think I'm a terrible mistake, Spike?"

An odd sensation of pity fills him. The emotion isn't common for a vampire, but for her he can feel it. Taking her in his arms, careful not to injure any of the wounds further, he soothes her like a child. "No. You're a princess, Drusilla. My princess."

As the morning lark begins to sing outside their window and the sound of street pedestrian traffic picks up, Drusilla lets him hold her. Eventually this leads to more than just holding as his cock grows hard with the thought of the beauty he shares his bed with.

She had been taken so many times that night, but she gives what she can and he takes all that he can get. In their dark world where hate and control reign, neither has much to offer, but its still enough to keep the pain away, at least a little.

There's even a moment, when Drusilla is squirming underneath him and Spike can feel all the little muscles in her contract around him, that he thinks she might actually love him. And not just because of the bloodlust the two of them share, not just because he knows one hundred and eleven different ways to maim a person while keeping them conscious enough to play with, but because of who he is inside. Something in her bonds with his deadened heart that's still eager to connect with something.

There's something in her eyes that clues him in. Something he sees while Drusilla concentrates on the back and forth rocking motion, a smile that light up her eyes and his world. One that not even her sire can steal from Drusilla's lips. A smile meant for only him, like a secret they share. Its not much, but it'll keep him warm tonight.


End file.
